


live the good life, fight the good fight

by kuro49



Series: thirty days of writing '18 [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Buried Alive, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 09:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: The soil is wet, is heavy, is giving off that smell of rot. Laugh a little fucking louder, he cannot hear you from beyond the grave.Or the boys are buried alive, keyword being alive.





	live the good life, fight the good fight

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted to tumblr for jason todd's birthday back on aug 16. set vaguely after robin war?
> 
> prompt: The sky, first thing in the morning.

 

The soil is wet, is heavy, is giving off that smell of rot. Jason Todd has an inkling that he might not be as dead as he wished he was.

When he opens his eyes, he cannot see the sky.

 

It is a bit on the nose but the thought hits him like, well. The comparison had to be made: A crowbar to the face.

He doesn’t want to die yet, again. Whatever.

“It would be stupid to die like this.” Tim voices their thoughts, sitting in the corner of what is going to be their grave if something doesn’t happen soon. They are bound to breathe the air out of each other’s lungs when the oxygen finally runs out in this tomb.

“You know what’s worse?” Jason turns to Red Robin and his mouth curls into a grin beneath his helmet even if none of them can see. However, each one of them _knows_ what comes next. “To come back from a death like this.”

He is no comedian but it is probably at least a little bit funny even if nobody is laughing. Jason doesn’t really mind his shit excuse of an audience, he is a brave soul and he fills the small space with laughter.

Filtered through the modulator in his helmet, it sounds like the most ominous thing.

 

When it quiets down, it is Robin that fills the silence, he's got his knees pulled up to his chest when he says. “Mother says there are worse ways to die.”  
  
“Um.” Signal chimes in and almost wished he didn’t because being buried alive in this tiny, narrow space with these guys of all the members of the extended family of bats, this here still makes it well up there on his list of worst ways to die.

“If we consider Talia, the brat here’s really quite well-adjusted.” Jason shares, and he thinks in some hind-Lazarus-brain he still retained from his little dip in Ra’s al Ghul‘s fountain of youth, he remembers seeing a toddler that could pass for Damian during his time in Talia’s care.

The hiss coming from the kid is like clockwork. “Your opinions are n–”

“Just kill me now.” Red Robin tips his head back, thinking every single decision he’s made wrong to lead him right here and now.

There are a lot of things to regret. But that goes for all of them.

 

“Alright kids,” Jason says as he stands up.

It takes a little bit of maneuvering because they are somewhere underground, trapped right where the bad guy thinks picking off four birds instead of one is a good idea. He motions for them to move over and they manage. Because here is a thing nobody tells you, there are some things even death cannot take from you.

And you, Jason Todd, you learn this all on your own when death is not so much the end as it is a reset button being smashed repeatedly like it is the attack command. You can die a thousand deaths but you come back, bigger, badder, and better.

 

When the explosive in his helmet goes off, it rains dirt around them and there is a moment where Jason thinks _oh shit_.

 

“I almost got worried, little wing.”

Jason is still mad at Dick because even in death, there are some secrets that Robins do not tell but Dick Grayson told every single one to continue this lie. When Jason is pushing himself out of the heavy soil that caved in on them, he can hear the sputtering around him and it reassures some part of him that he didn’t think he still cared about.

Tipping his face to the sky in the early morning light, he sees a face gazing down at him.

That face is unclear, he thinks he is seeing green eyes that could possibly pass for baby blues. That might also be blond hair or quite probably some nondescript brown.

“You should've, we almost died.” Jason tells the Spyral Agent that is ignoring every direct order to be here.

"Don't be dramatic."

"Just get us out of here, Dickhead.”

Nothing is memorable about the man that stands blocking the sun but the sound of the first Robin's laugh hasn’t changed.

 

It’s not all that bad to be alive again with the sun so warm on his face.

 


End file.
